You recall the tingling sensations of lips, the scents of the unknown,

and you know it’s for the love of the thing, not for how far it takes you away from, or

closer to

yourself, but how far you can stretch

without breaking

that matters

that becomes a sort of profession,

I mean

confession

held

Dear,

Deirdre Fagan is a widow, wife, and mother of two who has published poetry, fiction, and nonfiction in Connotation Press, Corvus Review, Ink Sweat & Tears, Mothers Always Write, Words Apart, and Yellow Chair Review, among others. She teaches literature and writing at Ferris State University where she is also the Coordinator of Creative Writing. Meet her at deirdrefagan.com